Today, my lovely, kind-hearted, hard-working sister is turning…well, two years older than I am. I wish you a happy, happy birthday and an exciting year ahead.
I’m finally getting around to uploading some random pictures that I took over the past week or so. Here’s a tiny glimpse into what life looks like on this end…
Cupcakes for St. Patrick’s day…(to be iced and decorated with green goodies):
Cakes in jars for Jen’s and Na’s birthdays:
Seeing growth of spring in our yard (purple weeds that I’ve never seen before and a tree that is blooming!) Despite the rain, driving around town has been beautiful with all the cherry blossoms and magnolias blooming (not pictured, unfortunately):
REI service project with Keba (we got SOAKED and left early, but not before making a huge dent in an overgrown blackberry bush):
After a few recent discussions with friends about the struggle between simplicity/frugality and materialism, I found a great article online that summed up everything. Kim Gottschild writes on the Burnside Writers Collective about her decision to shop solely at Goodwill. Here’s an excerpt, but I highly recommend you read the entire thing at the Burnside Writers Collective website!
There are pressures around us every day. And they are invasive. These pressures, in the form of television ads, telemarketers, coupons in the mailbox, store specials, credit card deals, you name it, want us to spend our hard earned money, telling us that we’d be happy if we only had that pair of shoes on sale for only $69.99 plus another 10% off if we use our special shopper coupon on Thursday or Friday (not only is the way we spend our money dictated, but when?). And if shoes don’t make us happy, the pressures say, then maybe a beverage fountain or a new toaster or a duvet set will. What about fluffy towels, modern lamps, tableware? Cars? Flat screen TVs? You don’t know what you’re missing until we tell you, the pressures say.
I, for one, am tired of being bombarded by messages that I did not ask to receive. Messages that think they know what I need and want better than I do. Messages that tell me that my life is crap because I don’t have an espresso maker or a waffle iron.
I am no longer listening. I am no longer interested in what I am supposedly missing. I choose ignorance. And I choose to escape the bombardment of pressures by saying no, turning off the television, and throwing anything away that even closely resembles junk mail. And if I “forget” to throw away a catalog, my husband does it for me. But recently, I have chosen to take my rebellion of all material pressures one step further.
I now shop at Goodwill. Almost exclusively.
After many hints (subtle and not-so-subtle attempts), Matt got me a bouquet of [mostly] green flowers for St. Patrick’s Day! I first mentioned it to him last year… “I don’t care if you get me flowers for Valentine’s day, but I’d loooove a bouquet of green flowers for St. Patrick’s Day!”
Earlier this week, he had to leave work early to do a press check at a printing company near our house. I got a ride home with Keba, and when I walked through the front door, I saw the flowers sitting on our dining table! Yippee!!
My first memory of celebrating St. Patrick’s Day was in kindergarten. All the kids went outside, and when we came back in, we saw green footprints going up the walls and the curtains. (I don’t know what they were made of, but looking back, I’m assuming they were just made of green construction paper?) The teachers told us that the leprochauns had been in the classroom while we were out! I don’t remember if they left us candy or pieces of gold, but I do remember thinking, “Now, why couldn’t they have come when we were here?! I want to see them!”
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, and don’t forget to wear green–the best color of all!!
Also, here’s a photo from a recent snowshoeing excursion with the Chings. We went to Gold Creek and had a relaxing afternoon through a serene trail. More pics in the gallery under the “Our World” folder…
If someone came to your door, begging you to hide them because people of their ethnicity were being killed, what would you do? Shut the door before they could come in? Tell them you’ll pray for them and then send them next door? Or take them in, knowing full well that you were risking your own life?
When faced with this situation, Paul Rusesabagina, hid more than 1,200 ethnic Tutsis in the hotel where he worked in Rwanda. More than once, his life was threatened, but each time, he negotiated with the militia who were seeking out the Tutsis, and was able to survive the confrontation. Sadly, although Paul helped those who came to him, more than 800,000 people died over a span of 100 days in Rwanda. Paul’s story and the events of the Rwandan genocide were captured in a movie, “Hotel Rwanda.”
Last Friday, I had the privilege of hearing Paul speak for an hour at the Elliott Bay Bookstore in Seattle. He recently published a book called “An Ordinary Man,” which tells about his experience during the genocide. I was truly amazed that this guy, whose life I had seen in “Hotel Rwanda,” was standing before me, talking about his experience so calmly.
One thing he said was to not underestimate the power of words. Many times when he was confronted by the militia, he calmly stepped forward and used words to relate–not knives or guns. He soon realized that words were more effective than violence or force. Another thing that stuck out to me was when someone asked him about his experience with Don Cheadle, the actor who portrayed him in “Hotel Rwanda.” Paul said, “I spent time with Don so that he could see that I am not a Superman.” I think it’s so easy to see admirable figures like this, and to place them on a pedestal. That’s great, but there is a danger in doing that. When we see people as great, extraordinary figures, we separate them from ourselves. When we separate ourselves from them, we also put their abilities in one box and our abilities in another, meaning, we say, “He’s this great guy so of course he was brave enough to hide people in the hotel. I, on the other hand, am not special, so I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
Paul wanted to emphasize that he was not a Superman, because he just did what he felt he had to do to help people. If he is just like you and me, that means we should also feel like we could do great things to help other people. We shouldn’t feel like we have to be qualified in any way to help people in need. The reaction to help others in need, in danger, should be automatic. Unfortunately, it’s not, and I’m speaking for myself.
When I see someone in need or if someone asks me for help, I’m ashamed to say, but oftentimes, my first thought is to wonder how it will affect me. Will I be inconvenienced? Am I putting myself in harm’s way? If Paul had reacted in that way, 1,200+ people would not be alive today. And he was just an ordinary man, not a Superman, as he says. I–along with those 1,200+– people would disagree, but his life just shows that we are all capable of what he did.
(I’m on a waiting list to check out Paul’s book from the library, but I’ve also read “Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust” by Immaculee Ilibagiza, which is a powerful first-person account of a girl’s experience in the genocide. She, along with some other women, hid in a bathroom for several months, as people frequently came to the house, searching for them.)
Prevention magazine released their list of Top Walkable Cities in the United States. Here they are:
Yippee for SF and Seattle! My dad e-mailed me the article and said I have chosen good places to live. Of all the cities I’ve visited, these two also happen to my two favorites. I think I just thrive on walking everywhere because you are able to take in so much more of the city. You see things you wouldn’t see zipping by in a car, you interact with people that you normally wouldn’t interact with.
When I think about living in SF, I really do miss walking all over the place. The longest walk I ever took there was walking from the Outer Sunset district all the way to Chinatown/North Beach. I miss living right in Seattle where we can walk everywhere. The longest walk we did here was from the Pike Place area back to our apartment. It didn’t seem hard, though, despite being uphill. We stopped at some stores along the way and just took our time going through various neighborhoods. That’s the fun of walking. You feel more calm, you’re less in a rush, and you’re enjoying your city.
*For Kris: Coastal Living ranked Tunnels Beach in Kauai as one of the top 10 beaches to collect shells. :)
A couple weeks ago, I received an e-mail that listed a bunch of silly terms and definitions, one of them being “prairie dogging.” Up until now, my definition of prairie dogging had to do with going to the bathroom. (A friend of mine just suggested that I be less open about gross stuff–farting, skin bubbles–on my site. Although I can’t say I’ll do that, I will exercise some discretion here.) If you really want to know what prairie dogging is, e-mail me. ;)
But the e-mail’s definition of prairie dogging, in the office context, was the action of people poking their heads out of their cubes. For example, if something interesting is going on in the office, you’ll start seeing people prairie dogging–peeking their heads from above their cube walls to see what is going on. In my case, I have to climb up on my desk in order to do that.
Today, Makeba and I scouted out some salad and crossaint-wiches down the hall, so we snagged some free food. Another girl came by and got all excited, thinking we had some sort of free dessert. Someone else walked by and looked at our plates…”No chocolates,” we told her. Then we joked about how if we said “chocolate” loud enough, people might get excited, thinking there was free chocolate and start prairie dogging to see where it was. That totally cracked us up, since we imagined people prairie dogging in the bathroom sense–not in the office sense. OK, totally gross and random, but I’m still snickering as I write about it.
Bear with me. For every three serious posts, I need at least one silly post.
As much as I enjoy visiting websites like not martha, Apartment Therapy, and other such crafty-home-decorating sites, I have a love-hate relationship with them. I check them out and find myself thinking, “Ooh, I want that, too…” or “Ooh, that would be good for the house…” and then I start getting mad at myself for getting sucked into feeling like I need or want all these excessive things.
Granted, I’ve gotten a lot of great ideas from not martha, but it seems like every week, she’s buying more and more things. And that’s the case with most of these websites. They’re telling you about cool gadgets that you *must* have. After I find myself getting mad at myself for being sucked in, I start getting irked at the website owner for being so materialistic, too, as if it’s my business to tell them what sort of lifestyle they should lead. hehe…
I was browsing through another website where the owner said that for weddings, brides need to get a bridal shower dress, rehearsal dinner dress, and then of course, the wedding gown. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. Of course, that is what all brides believe they should do–and all dressmakers would want them to believe–but this is precisely why brides-to-be moan and groan about not having a large-enough budget for a wedding. First of all, NO ONE will care if you wear a new dress to your bridal shower and rehearsal dinner. Seriously. When we were planning for our wedding, a friend mentioned having to get a new dress–for our rehearsal dinner. I was appalled. A new dress. For MY rehearsal dinner. You know what I wore for our rehearsal dinner? Jeans, flip flops, and a Kings t-shirt, and Matt wore a borrowed Lakers sweatshirt. We wanted to play off our Kings/Lakers rivalry, and then we told everyone else to just wear their favorite t-shirt (hint: it’s a casual event, people!). For my bridal shower, I wore jeans and a nice top…straight out of my closet. Nothing new.
No wonder why ad space is so valuable on websites, though. People are so easily influenced by what they see on their favorite sites, and something that you didn’t know existed suddenly becomes a must-have, even if it’s something absolutely absurd like an artificial chick that “cracks” out of its shell when placed in water. Exposure to material wealth is absolutely dangerous!
(But seriously, not martha is one of my favorite websites for snagging ideas…)
“What’s your definition of a Christian? Is it broad enough to encompass the drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes, and broken people of the world? Jesus said that he came to heal the sick. Drug addicts are messed up just the same as liars are messed up, just the same as all humans are messed up. We all need Jesus. We all struggle with personal ways in which sin plays itself out in our lives.
“What’s worse? To not do dope or to not love your brother? Why do we kick drug users out of the church while quietly ignoring those who aren’t dealing with other, equally destructive sin? Why do we reject the loving, self-sacrificing, giving, encouraging, Jesus-pursuing drug addict but recruit the clean, self-interested, gossiping, loveless churchgoer?
“Which one do you suppose Jesus would rather share a burrito with under a bridge?”
-Mike Yankoski, Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America
I’m reading this book called Under the Overpass about two guys’ five-month experience living on the streets of six American cities. Each day, they experience the same challenges as the rest of the homeless population: where to sleep, where and how to get food, where to go to the bathroom, etc. Yankoski went on this journey with his friend, Sam, to figure out if his faith in God was real, not just in the comforts of his own home, but apart from the daily luxuries of life.
The cool thing is that Yankoski continues to spend time with people in need, to make them feel acknowledged and recognized as members of society. I like that the five-month experience was not just a single adventure. It affected the rest of his life. His website includes a journal that encourages people to live simply, within their means, and to reach out to those who are less fortunate materialistically.
I also really liked the quote written above. In church, there are certain sins that are generally frowned upon. It’s easy for us to look at people involved in those sins and shake our heads. “Oh, those sinners,” we think. It’s easy for us to judge because those lifestyle sins are far removed from our seemingly “petty” sins, like greed, impatience, or impure thoughts. How easily we forget that all sins are equal in God’s eyes. If we truly live by that belief, doesn’t that mean that I, in my sin of selfishness, am just as unworthy of a church pew as someone who steals? Sometimes it seems better to have a more visible sin than one that is private, so that we don’t fool ourselves and others into believing we’re ”good” Christians.
